Through Glass
by MaccaBea
Summary: John is hurt.Terribly. Why can't life be easy, you say? Why can't I write him in happy land? Because it is real life... This is it. Song: Through Glass.No Reviews intended. I write to ease my stress.Rated T for Language and kissing. SH/JW and Some JW/SM
1. Prologue

A/N: The song in the begininng is "Through Glass" By Stone Sour. As to the title of the story. Chapters will be named by songs too. Yes, I write fanfics. While listening to metal, pop-rock, and other rock n' roll related music. Don't judge. It sometimes has sad songs. That help make masterpieces. I also wrote this at a sad heart. I have been having Drama lately. I'm not liking love... It hurts. Truly... Well, enough of me! Cheers!  
Oh by the way, this a beginner chapter...Short. Bit look! I added a chapter! be happy!

I'm looking at you through the glass...

Don't know how much time has passed

Oh, god it feels like forever

But no one ever tells you that forever

Feels like home sitting all alone inside your head...

John stared out the window. His eyes lightly prickling with tears. His thoughts floating through the room. It would be rude to explain someone elses personal thoughts. That would just tear him more if people knew why he was always stuffed in his bedroom or hid away from the public. If he cared the people he used to know knew he was there or not. No. He didn't have many people since...He couldn't even think of this at times. He would break out crying if he tried to think.

His mind was forever blank. LIke a piece of paper. Like his blog, which stayed in the words, "The End". He never finshed. He thought about it. For a while. It was three years for god sake! He should re-build himself. He was a bloody mess. He should just find a perfect girl. No. He loved one person. He wanted to stay with..S...Sherlock. No one else. If he did, something must had made him. Or he was being a total git! He never would. Ever.

He would get calls from his mum, Lestarde, and even Mycroft. He would never reply. No. Not. Ever. Especially Mycroft. Some were like:

John, Where are you? I know its hard but we all got through it...  
-GL

John. Come to the gravesite. A black car will wait.  
-MH

And etc. He would despise Mycroft's ones. He would mention Sherlock in bad ways at times. Ooo how that would pierce his heart. It hurt. Really. It did. Why did love hurt? Why couldn't it be peaceful and you live forever with whom you loved. Life would be excellent. But was life excellent. No. We had war and crime. Hate and Worry. Stress... Some of these John was already in or has been here before.

Life. Was. A. Living. Hell._  
_


	2. Lost in You

A/N: You know...When I saw people actually alerted this...(Never gets alerts) and me...I was soooo happy! Now All I need is some reviews! LOL. No I am not asking, just do this for the heck of it. I love to write fanfics. (Mainly because I can't write my own story with my own characters. lol.)  
Now, Also, I would love if you beloving people would give me some ideas for some stories. Now, I must go on with the story!  
{Song: 'Lost in You' by 'Three days Grace'}  
Cheers!

|O-o-O-o-O|

I always knew that you'd

Come back to get me

And you always knew that

It wouldn't be easy

To go back to the start

To see where it all began

Or end up at the bottom

To watch how it all ends

You tried to lie and say

I was everything

I remember when I said

I'm nothing without you

John's eyes were killing him. They had more bags then usual. He hadn't slept for days. He just cried, and cried, and cried. Until his eyes were even more sore. Why can't he just get over him. He was just...No. Sherlock wasn't just This...or That. He was...Sherlock for pete sake!

Now, John got up from his chair. He was deciding on whether he should go to bed. He would just cry himself to sleep or worse, have a dream(Nightmare) of Sherlock. That was the last thing he wanted. Not now. Just. Not now.

His legs for half dead as he walked to the chair to the kitchen. He needed tea as well. His throat was dry. He had actually gone out of the house yesterday to get milk. Oh how that reminded him of Sherlock, so. He opened the fridge. No experiments were in sight. Oh how it killed him. Why? Why had Mrs. Hudson come and clean the fridge from the experiments. He half thanked and half hated her at the same time.

He sighed, deciding just for a glass of water. He walked to the cabinet, finding a glass and going to the faucet. His hand stretched out an dturned the nob to pour the water in the glass. As he did, he stared out the kitchen window. He swore, he saw a man, hair slanted to the right of his head and a scare on his left eye.

This frightened John lightly. Dream. Surely. Well, there were starnge men in London. But as he looked back, the man was staring at him. His deadly brown-sh and green-sh eyes stared right through him. God. He flinched and fell back, the water flying back. The man did have something familiar though. John just couldn't put it together. Why was he staring up at their...John's flat, directly at John?

John was just imagening things now. __

Stress...Yes, Must be...Just me...uhm... He whispered lightly.

Turning, he found the broken glass shards and water spreading fast. He cussed lightly, running to grab a towel off the towel rack in the bathroom. He hardly cared...but he didn't want to just leave it there and step in it alot...So he had to.

As he came back and knelt to clean he heard a soft knock at the door. Now who could it be. He was already worried about that man. (He was going crazy!) So he sighed, leaving the towel to soke it up. He thought it was Mrs. Hudson... He made himself walk to the door, he peaked through the peak whole. What?

_That man! What the hell? _He hissed to himself.

He turned and leaned his back on the door. He panted lightly.

_Why? _He hissed once again.

Who was he, was the question. Who. Was. He? He must just been worrying so much, he forgot familiar faces. Yeah- Wait no! He didn't...He could be on Jim's side- Jim's dead...

_Shut up! _He growled to himself.

He sighed and turned back around and opened the door, only to be pushed to wall oppisote of him.

"Are you John Watson" The other growled lowly.

"Yes..." He managed to choke out from his hand that clenched his throat.

"What d-do you want...?" He choked once again.

"You killed Jim..." He literally spit at him, loosening his grip at his throat. Which made John heave in a big breath.

"What...? No! H-he killed himself!" He yelled. "Who are you anyway!" He closed his eyes while speaking.

"Why would I tell you...And I know you didn't /actually/ kill him...I know..." He closed his eyes hard and sighed to answer. "Jim..." He whispered.

Okay, he knew Moriarty. All he needed to know, besides his name. He stood on the wall, Seb's legs on each side of John to pin him lightly or actually quite roughly.

"I need your help..." He said softly.

John's expression changed.

Help.

He needed his help.

After what he did he would say _NO!_

But he paid close attention to his face. It looked like his when he looked in the mirror.

Stress, worry, and loneliness. John bet he missed Jim. (Staying with Sherlock as much as he did he could deduce some things.)

John sighed and nodded. "Sure...But you? You look string to pull yourself together.." He said. He then looked surprised what he said. He was strong! Dang it. He should shut up before he pounds him.

"No reason...I'm a normal human am I not?" He asked with a growl-sh hiss.

"Yes...Yes..." He nodded, nervously.

The other let himself in without a word, sitting where Sherlock did. Funny how that comforted him. He just met this man and he was helping him. How he looked, he could kill him for pete's sake!

"Sebastian. Sebastian Moran."

"What?"

"That's my name." Sebastian said. "But you may call me Seb or Sebby." He insisted.

John smiled lightly, from the couple years. A friend hmm? He needed one since he hadn't seen Sherlock. His smile faded and Sebastian got up to get some tea. John's eyes settled on the outside. He swore, for the life of him, he saw a man that looked like a disguised Sherlock.

He choked. No. His mind! But what about Sebastian. He thought that was his mind...He just looked to Sebastian as he came back with tea and and handed it to John.

"Thanks.."

"No problem...Now...Could you...possibly help me get over...Jim.." He said slowly.

John frowned lightly. "Sorry, I still can't get over Sherlock..." He said slow as he did.

They both sighed and and laid back more. "We are going to have to learn to, with the both of our own help, huh?" Seb asked.

John only nodded and his face was a deep frown. His lips tucked in. God, Why? He may have though Sebastian could help him...


End file.
